6 comments/ 159780 views/ 12 favorites Humiliation for Father By: Sabineteas I had just turned 19 and was back home for the summer. Life had been hard for my family. My mother had died while I was at school and my father was struggling to be both father and mother to my two younger sisters. Money was tight and dad was living from payday to payday, trying to keep the household going and to help me with school expenses. I had been home for two weeks when my father came home from work extremely upset. At first he wouldn’t say anything to me, ignoring my questions, but he finally broke down. He told me that in his sales job, if he held sales back to the following month, he saved the purchasers money. By doing that he insured that they would continue to buy from him rather than looking elsewhere. But, if he did that he was breaking company rules, which subjected him to termination. And, he got caught. His supervisor did an unannounced audit of the sales and he discovered what my father had been doing. He had called him in and confronted my father. My father could not think of any explanation so he had sat silently. His boss told him that he had to decide what punishment my father was going to get and that he would let him know in a couple of days. My father was distraught, thinking that he would lose his job and the only way that he could support the family. We talked and thought and could not come up with any ideas. We spent most of the night crying and holding each other. The next morning my father went out on his sales calls, trying to be as normal as possible for my sisters and me. I sat thinking and then dashed upstairs and dressed in my nicest clothes. Telling my sisters to stay at home, I caught the bus and rode downtown, rehearsing what I was going to do in my mind. At the stop I needed, I got off the bus and walked into my father’s office. I asked for his boss, Mr. Martin, sitting down in the reception area. After waiting almost an hour, Mr. Martin came to me. We shook hands and I asked if I could see him in private. He led me to his office, which was next to a conference room with a glass wall bordering the hallway. He let me go inside first and then followed, closing the door. “Mr. Martin, I know that you have a problem with my father and I am here to see if we can solve the problem.” “Are you aware of what he has done?” “Yes sir, I am, and I am here to see if you and I can fix things for my father.” “You are aware that this offense is one that he can lose his job over?” Yes, Mr. Martin, my father and I talked about this for some time last night. I know what he is concerned about and why.” “Well young lady, I really should terminate your father for this offense.” “Isn’t there anything that we can do, Mr. Martin? There must be something that you and I can come up with so that my father won’t lose his job.” He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers, looking intently at me. I felt like a bug in a jar as his gaze moved over me. His eyes lingered at my legs and my chest, making my face color. I felt very uncomfortable and was beginning to think that my idea to come here was not a good one. I tried to meet his eyes and not show any weakness. Finally he spoke. “Well, if you are willing to take a punishment for your father, I would be willing to let the whole issue go this time. But if he ever is caught doing anything else, young lady, I will be forced to terminate him. Are you willing to take a punishment for him so that he can keep his position with the company?” Now that the shoe had dropped, so to speak, my mouth was dry. I worked my tongue to moisten it. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I will have to take a punishment in order to insure that my father still has a job? What sort of punishment will it be?” “Miss, that will be decided.” “When will the punishment be?” “The day after tomorrow, if you accept.” I sat thinking. I took a deep breath. “There is no other way?” “If you wish your father to keep his position, these are my terms. You will accept a punishment, to be determined by me, and the punishment will occur at 4PM in two days. Now either accept them or not. I have a busy day.” I looked at him and nodded yes. “Just a moment Miss.” He went to his door, opened it and motioned for his secretary to enter. “Mrs. Jones, this young lady has something to say and I want you as a witness.” He then nodded to me. “Tell her.” Mrs. Jones, I have agreed to accept a punishment for my father. Mr. Martin and I have agreed to this, correct Mr. Martin?” “Yes, that is correct. Mrs. Jones, I wanted you to hear this from her. The punishment will be at 4PM the day after tomorrow and I wish you to attend.” Mrs. Jones smiled at him and nodded, then she left. “I’ll see you at 4PM in two days, Miss. Be on time. Now I am busy, please leave me.” I stood and left. As soon as I was out of the office I started to shake, wondering what I had gotten myself into with Martin. It was too late now, however. I caught the bus home and busied myself with chores and dinner, waiting until my father came home. He stormed into the house, eyes flashing. “What have you done?” “I have managed to get Martin to allow you to keep you job. If I hadn’t seen him and arranged this, you might have been fired tomorrow.” “You have no idea what he is capable of, honey. He called me in this afternoon and told me what you had done. I do not like this. You should have left this alone.” “Dad, it’s too late now. I made the arrangements. I got him to agree to keep you on. How bad can it be?” “Honey, I wish you had left this alone. I have a bad feeling about this, a very bad feeling.” “Dad, it will be all right. Don’t worry. Besides, in two days it will be over, you’ll still have your job.” We spent a very quiet night after this. Father was angry with me and scared for me and his anger and concern worried me. The silence was oppressive all night. I got more and more nervous and finally went to bed. The next morning I made a special effort to get up early and make breakfast for my father and to put on a happy face. He was still angry with me initially, but warmed up to me as time went by. He left for the day and I was alone to worry about what was going to happen. At about 2PM the phone rang. It was Mrs. Jones. She informed me that I was to wear a nice dress, heels and stockings, not pantyhose. She was very adamant. I had to agree and left to get some thigh high stockings, which I could not afford. I was home again before my dad and we spent another silent night. The next day came and I was up early again to make breakfast for him, smiling and trying to get him to cheer up. He left for work and I was left to worry for the rest of the day. Finally I had to get ready. I showered and made myself up and then dressed in my best dress and matching pair of heels. I did look good. Taking a deep breath, I walked outside to head to the bus stop, but there was a cab waiting. The driver called to me and let me know that he would take me. I began to feel even more nervous, but I got in the cab and rode to the office. As I entered I saw all the salesmen, including my father, sitting in the waiting area. After I had sat down, nervously holding my purse, the receptionist called Martin. He came and called the salesmen into the inner office. I sat alone, at first glancing about, but seeing the receptionist smirking at me, I lowered my eyes and clutched my purse even harder. Time seemed to drag and I squirmed on my chair. Finally Mrs. Jones came and told me to follow her. I walked behind her to the conference room with the glass wall and we entered. All the salesmen, including my father, were there along with Martin. Mrs. Jones sat, leaving me standing alone, all eyes on me. “This young lady has come here of her own free will to take a punishment that will allow her father to keep his job. He was caught in an audit doing something that I know all you have done at some time or another. If I catch any one of you rolling sales, there will be no punishment for you or anyone else. You will be terminated. I have asked you here to observe that all that is being done today is a punishment and that no one will be discussing this any further.” Everyone in the room nodded except my father. His eyes were on me and me alone. My eyes flitted about the room. I was extremely nervous. “Miss, your punishment will be a spanking. Since you father had 12 instances of rolling sales over a three month period, you will receive three sets of 12 with a break in between each set.” My father started to get up and I hurried to him. “Let it be father, how bad can it be?” He sat heavily and I turned to Martin. He was smirking at me and I felt a chill sweep through me. I put on a brave front even though the entire circumstances were making me very uncomfortable. The room itself, with glass walls to the hall; the entire sales force sitting in the same room, Martin and Mrs. Jones, and the smirk the receptionist gave me. I wasn’t about to let him or anything else get me. “Let’s get on with this.” Martin smirked once more. “Everyone take seats on the hall side except for the young lady and Mrs. Jones. Miss, get up on the table facing the other wall.” As I moved to the conference table to climb up on it, I realized that the wall opposite the hall was floor to ceiling glass and overlooked the parking lot. All of a sudden I wanted out of there, but if I left my father would lose his job and my family would be in a major bind. With my stomach clenching, I awkwardly climbed up on the table. I was about to rise from my knees when Martin spoke again. “Hands and knees will be fine Miss. Face the windows please.” I shivered, then bent over to place my hands on the table, facing the windows and seeing Mrs. Jones standing in front of me, smiling. Whispers came from behind me and I knew the other salesmen were discussing either me or what was going to happen to me. I felt a hand on the top of my dress. I started to turn my head to look. “Be still!” The loud words forced me to look back to the window. I could see the first few people leaving the building walk by on their way to the parking lot. The hand unhooked the neck of my dress and I felt it grab the tab of my zipper. I gasped as I felt the zipper pulled down, unfastening my dress. “Noooooo.” I moaned out loud but it made no difference. The zipper descended until it was at the bottom. I heard scuffling behind me. I felt Martin turn. “Hold him!” This time I did turn my head and watched as two of the salesmen grabbed my father’s arms and shoved him back in a chair directly behind me. He struggled but was unable to break free. His head went down so he couldn’t see his daughter, his little girl, in front of him. My dress was lifted over my ass, my panties on show to everyone. Then I felt Mrs. Jones hands on the top of my dress. She smirked at me and tugged, pulling the dress up my body and over my head. “Take your arms out of the dress.” Numb, I obeyed, not knowing what else was going to be done to me. My face was bright red and my legs were beginning to shake. Mrs. Jones dropped my nice dress on the floor as though it was a rag. My head fell down, staring at the tabletop. I saw her move closer to the table and then her hands on my bra clasp. I heard my father struggling violently behind me and then he began to sob as my bra let loose. Mrs. Jones chuckled and slid the straps off my shoulders. I watched, shaking, as it fell in front of my face to the tabletop. She pulled my bra, yanking it loose from my hands and dropped it on top of my dress. My breasts jiggled and swayed underneath me. Martin walked around the table to face me. One hand lifted my chin so I had to look at him and the other reached under me and cupped a breast, squeezing it and flicking at my nipple. Tears blurred my eyes as I felt him fondle my naked breast. I wanted to jump up, but I couldn’t. It was as though I was frozen. His hand went to my other breast and squeezed it also. He handled me until my nipples hardened involuntarily. Then he left me. I heard him walk around the table, but I could not see him through my tears. “Lift his head up so he can see.” I heard scuffling or struggling behind me again. “Daddy, please, don’t make them hurt you, please.” I heard my father sob behind me again. I couldn’t look, I couldn’t see through tears anyway. A hand touched my back high up and slithered down my back to my ass. Fingers curled under the waistband of my panties and I gasped. I felt them slide over my ass and be pulled down to my knees. Then there was chuckling behind me. I began to cry out loud, sobbing uncontrollably. I had never thought that he would do this to me. Martin’s hands wormed between my thighs and pushed my knees further apart. I felt cold air on my pussy. A hand pushed down on the small of my back, making it arch, lifting my ass, making my cheeks open. It stayed there and I heard a soft whistling sound, then a crack and I shrieked in pain. I twisted my head around to see. Martin was using a ping pong paddle on my ass! Mrs. Jones grabbed my hands as I started to rise and held me in position from the front. My breasts were swaying back and forth when I heard the whistling noise again and the paddle hit my other cheek. My ass was on fire and I had only received two of the 36 he had told me I was getting. I was blushing, crying, sobbing and in shock from the pain. Crack! I jolted up even with Mrs. Jones holding onto me. She pulled me back down. Crack! I squirmed my hips back and forth, trying to alleviate the pain to no avail. Crack! Crack! I was sobbing and panting, naked in front of several middle-aged men and one woman. Naked in front of my father, my father! Martin ran his hand over my ass, stroking, feeling, and squeezing. Then it slid between my thighs and cupped my pussy. He squeezed my pussy also and ran a finger through my lips. Then he began again. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Martin’s hand was on my ass again, feeling, fondling, squeezing me. It was so hot and I was sobbing loudly. I had no strength in my arms or legs, just enough to keep me on hands and knees. Martin walked around the table again, lifted my chin and wiped tears from my eyes. Then he turned my head so I could see the windows to the hall. There were several women standing and staring through the glass, staring at me, my ass, my pussy and now my tear streaked face. Their faces showed shock, smirks, and any expression you could think. Martin leaned close. “Are you enjoying yourself? I’ll check and see, you just wait as you are.” He chuckled and left my sight. I sensed him behind me and his hand was again cupping my pussy. Then a finger slid right up inside me. “Jesus, she is soaking!” I moaned in shame. My face turned even redder, if that was possible. All I could think of was who was seeing me like this, and oh god, my father! I tried to get up but Mrs. Jones and Martin held me until I quit struggling. Then he fondled my pussy some more, smearing my moisture on my lips, making them glisten in the light. Then he stepped back. I knew what was coming. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Six more swats and my ass was on fire. I was squirming continually, bawling and begging for mercy at the same time. My ass was burning and circling in the air, making figure-eights as I tried to cool the burning in it. Martin grabbed my underpants and pulled them past my knees and feet and off as I twisted from side to side from the pain. My panties were tossed across the table to land in front of me. Mrs. Jones balled them in one hand and pinched my nose, forcing me to open my mouth. When I gaped to breathe, she stuffed my panties into my mouth, gagging me. I was hurting so much I had not realized that I had been screaming out loud. Martin stuffed a finger up me again and thrust it in and out. All I could do was mewl into my panties and suck air through my nose. I could hear how wet I was as his finger rammed in and out of me. I could also hear my father sobbing behind me at what was being done to me. The hand left my pussy and his wet finger was wiped off on my burning ass, leaving streaks of moisture on me. I was panting through my gagged mouth and snot was bubbling out of my nose, running down my upper lip. “Hold still!” I forced myself to slow the circling of my ass, to present it for the next set of smacks. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! At the 24th blow I collapsed forward, slumping down on the conference table, humping my ass up and down to try and cool the fires burning on it. “Lift her up and hold her.” I felt hands at my thighs, pulling me back up to my knees. My nipples were so hard they hurt. My poor ass was on fire. I was panting, gagging on my panties, struggling to breathe through my nose. This time the finger slid up my pussy to wet it. Then it traced a line up to my anus. My head jerked up. My mind shrieked. A muffled howl of anguish came out of my mouth, around the panties, my panties, stuffed in it. The finger poked through my muscle and up my ass. I squirmed in anguish and shame and humiliation. He twisted his finger inside my ass and then popped it out and back up my pussy. Then it was back at my anus once more, popping inside me, twisting and plunging into me. Tears ran down my face, snot bubbled in my nostrils. Martin then pulled his finger out of my ass and walked around the table once more. He grasped my panties and pulled them out of my mouth. I gasped in relief until his finger, the one that had been in my ass, was stuck in mouth. “Suck.” I tried to pull back, to close my mouth, to spit it out, but Martin knew I would try to fight him. His other hand grabbed a breast and squeezed hard. I gasped in pain and gave up. I sucked the finger frantically, hoping that he would let go of my breast. He relaxed his grip a little. I kept sucking. His hand moved to my other breast and squeezed hard. I sucked harder. He found each nipple and pinched and pulled on them, stretching them out, making them burn. He twisted and pulled and pinched and all I could think of was to suck harder on the dirty finger in my mouth. Martin chuckled and pulled his finger out of my mouth. Letting go of my breasts and nipples, he walked behind me once again. I was gasping until Mrs. Jones shoved my panties into my mouth once again. Hands stroked my ass making me shiver, then left me. My ass was still slowly circling in the air, weaving back and forth as though it had a mind of it’s own. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! My mind went blank as the pain shot through my ass. My ass was weaving above the table in a useless struggle to cool it. I lifted my head, my tear filled eyes gazing ahead. I moaned in shame as I saw blurry faces at the floor to ceiling windows in front of me. Faces staring at me. I sobbed softly and slowly let my head fall to the table in front of me. I didn’t care that when I did that my ass lifted higher and my cheeks spread wider. I just couldn’t bear to have people see my face any more. I waited, waited for Martin to finish. He stuck his finger up my pussy again and then another up my ass, twisting and thrusting in both my holes. I just knelt there and let him; I just let him, not struggling. I was his now and I knew it. His finger, fingers left me and he came around the table once more. My head was pulled up by my hair. My panties were pulled out of my mouth once again and his finger was held in front of my mouth. Knowing what he had done to me before, I reached out and sucked the finger into my mouth, sucking on it like a baby with a nipple. I just didn’t want him to hurt my breasts or nipples again and would do anything to keep that from happening. I sucked mindlessly until he pulled the finger back and then replaced it with one that had been up my pussy. I was just as revolted by this finger, but I sucked it anyway. Anything to keep him from hurting my breasts again. Humiliation for Father When he was satisfied with my sucking he stepped back. And to show me that what I did made no difference to him, he slapped first my left breast and then my right. A hard slap, making my breasts swing back and forth and burn where he had hit me. This time my shriek was loud enough to wake the dead. God it hurt me. It made me forget the pain in my ass for a moment. Martin left my vision; Mrs. Jones forced me up to my hands and knees once more and made me look at the faces in front of me. She stuffed my panties back in my mouth and held onto my arms. Martin stroked my burning ass once again. He chuckled out loud. Then there was silence. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! The paddle was tossed down on the table next to me and I heard the door open behind me. I could hear the women who had watched my beating; it was a beating, not a spanking, whispering in the hall. Mrs. Jones let go of me and walked out of my sight. I heard shoes scuffling behind me and more people left. The door closed and I painfully slid my hands and knees backward until I could get my knees off the table. My feet hit the floor and I weaved my ass back and forth, up and down, bending my knees alternately, twisting my backside, my ass from side to side, vainly, trying to cool the heat that seemed to bubble off of it. I never even thought to take my panties out of my mouth I hurt so much. I felt hands at my shoulders and tried to get away. It was my daddy. He turned me and held me gently in his strong arms. I cried and cried and so did he. He wiped my eyes with his handkerchief and gently removed my panties from my mouth. Then he wiped my nose and made me blow it. He spoke softly to me “Where’s your dress honey?” I stiffened in his arms, ashamed that I was standing naked at 19 and being held by my father. Then I relaxed. He had seen all of me already. “O-o-over there.” I pointed to the other side of the table. As we both looked we saw a small puddle of tears and snot on the table below where my head had been. I sobbed, remembering how humiliated Martin had made me feel. How he had shamed me. My father made sure I could stand and then went to get my dress. He came back around the table with it and my bra. I was blushing and foolishly trying to cover my breasts and pussy. Then I just gave up and held out my hands for my dress. I put it on over my head and turned my back to my father. “Please zip me up.” Daddy did and I took my bra and stuffed it into my purse. My panties I just dropped in a trash basket. I stepped out into the hallway and waited for my father. I took his arm and shakily walked out of the office past grinning idiots who had watched my beating, seen my body. I blushed but I was not going to let them see me cry anymore. Once we turned the corner, then I leaned on my daddy and gasped in pain. I hobbled to our car and gingerly climbed into the back seat so I could kneel up on my way home. Daddy drove slowly and carefully, listening to my mewls of pain at each bump. Before we had gone two blocks I had to lift my dress in the back to get it off my sore, burning ass. I knelt, leaning over the back of the front seat, with my ass bared all the way home. I could have cared less who saw me. Besides, the tears rolling out of my eyes blinded me so I couldn’t see anyway. When we got home I slowly got out of the car and hobbled into the house. My two little sisters stared at me as I limped down the hall to my room. “What happened, what happened?” Daddy ignored them and came back to my room. “Please get my dress off Daddy.” Tenderly my father stripped me naked again and helped me to my bed. I was beyond caring that it was my father removing my clothes. I was beyond caring that as I climbed onto my bed my legs opened, baring my pussy to my father. Beyond caring that my breasts and burning red ass were bared to him. I lay on my stomach with my hot red ass pointed at the ceiling. “I’m sorry honey. It was all my fault.” It’s not important Daddy, it’s over.” I buried my face in my pillow and heard the door close softly behind me. Eventually I fell asleep although I dreamt of being beaten and naked throughout the night. And I still do to this day. My father and I never talked about that afternoon and as far as I know my sisters never found out. They never said anything to me that would tell me that they new about what had happened. But I knew every face that had seen me and whenever I saw one the blood rushed to my face. But I never did run away or hide from them. I did my best to ignore them, but it was hard when your face was burning red and you knew they had seen you naked. Seen you naked and beaten, seen a man stick a finger up your pussy and ass while other people watched. Seen a man fondle and feel your breasts and nipples. People who knew that your own father had witnessed it all. That your own father had seen the ease that those fingers went up your pussy and had to know that his little girl was no longer a virgin. He had to know that because of the ease that Martin’s fingers had gone up my pussy. That your own father and people who had seen you grow up from a girl to a woman had seen your naked, beaten body, your erect nipples and wet pussy. A pussy that was so wet it slurped when Martin fingered you in front of them. They had all seen you and knew that you had offered yourself, that you were not forced to do what had been done. And of course, even if Martin had told everyone in that room to not talk about it, so many other people had seen me through the glass windows my torment was soon all over town. Everyone knew. Everyone knew what I had allowed Martin to do to me. What I had allowed! It made no difference that I had done it to save my father’s job. I spent the years until I was able to leave after college seeing smirks from strangers and friends. Seeing their looks stripping me naked. Seeing them seeing me beaten on my naked ass. Their knowing eyes and looks humiliated me all over again day after day. It was so hard. It was so terribly hard. And even today, after years from that day, I find myself daydreaming and dreaming at night, when I am asleep, of being made to kneel on hands and knees. Then I am stripped without resistance. And finally a much older man beats my bare, naked ass. Beats me in front of so many people so that I cannot deny that it was ever done to me. So I cannot deny that I willingly allowed it to be done to me. And I don’t know if I would want it to be done to me again. I don’t know if I would willingly allow it. I don’t know if I would struggle and fight to try to prevent it from being done to me or if I would quietly allow myself to be stripped and beaten once more. I just don’t know.